Page 84 of Forest of a Thousand Lanterns

“He won’t succeed,” Jun repeated. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “A letter came months ago. His brother has been killed by the mercenaries who captured him. They are sending his head to me as proof of his death.”

Xifeng stared at his rigid back, at the shape of his bowed head.

“I kept this to myself. I let the whole court believe otherwise, including the Crown Prince, because I knew he’d insist on going if he thought his brother was still alive. And now he sails into enemy territory to save someone who is already dead.” The knuckles of Jun’s tightly clasped hands turned white. “Tell me, Xifeng. Did I do wrong? Will you turn against me, knowing I’ve as good as killed my heir?”

She did not speak, but placed a hand on his warm back. His shoulders rose and fell with the slow, shuddering breath he released.

“He never wanted the throne. He never said as much in my hearing, but we all knew it.” Jun shook his head. “It wasn’t until he publicly condemned Lady Sun at the Moon Festival that I wondered whether he had changed his mind. I knew he hated her for disrespecting hismother. But I suspected it was also a personal attack on me. Perhaps he had decided hedidwant to be Emperor after all, and sought to discredit and eventually exile me.”

“And so he had to be destroyed.” Lady Sun’s dead face swam behind her closed lids. Xifeng understood him completely—oh, how she understood him.

“I have an old, sick wife and two stepsons who are dead or dying. In time, if Lihua did not recover, I could choose a young Empress to give me sons of my blood and secure the throne. The Crown Prince was the only thing left standing in my way.”

Xifeng came close and put her arms around him, resting her cheek against his back. She might never truly love this man and he might never truly love her, but they needed each other, two ruthless souls driven by fate. “You told me once the hard decisions make us great,” she said softly. “I would not forsake you for doing what you had to do. And you have saved the Crown Prince from his fate, for he never wanted to be Emperor.”

He unclasped his hands and placed them over hers.

“Sometimes it is necessary to do questionable deeds to achieve what the heavens ordain,” Xifeng said, thinking of all she herself had done. “But in our losses, we may gain ourselves. We take what is ours and find solace in the quiet places between death and destruction.”

Jun turned, took her face between his hands, and kissed her. There was no passion in his embrace, such as she had felt with Wei. But his lips held a promise, as his gifts had. Xifeng took them for what they were worth—payment for the services she would deliver as his wife. It was business, a fair trade: he would give her a throne, and she would elevate his kingdom with her beauty and cunning. Their kiss sealed the pact.

The Emperor ran his thumb over her cheek. “You must have your own household and apartments, for your protection. The eunuchs will arrange the level below for your use.”

The level below.

He hadn’t even bothered to mention Lady Sun’s name, and she approved.

The concubines and Empress Lihua were in the past, and Xifeng was his future.

The Empress went into labor on the day of the envoy’s return. The first gong had struck for the morning meal, which everyone in the royal apartments ignored in their frenzy. Several eunuchs went to notify His Majesty, and the midwives set to work. They sent the ladies-in-waiting away, keeping only a few maidservants to bring boiling water and clean cloths.

Xifeng preferred to be away, anyhow. She bundled herself in furs and strolled on the walkway outside her apartments, where an army of eunuchs and craftsmen were still working. She had commanded them to destroy everything inside, especially the gilded tub, and bring in new furnishings. The Emperor had given her leave to commission whatever she liked, regardless of expense, and she wanted to erase every sign that Lady Sun had ever lived there.

She twisted her hands as she walked, instead of tucking them inside her robe. She couldn’t understand her own anxiety. It was a clear, wintry day, the first time the sun had shown its face in a week. Her apartmentswould be finished soon. And Emperor Jun wanted her by his side at tomorrow night’s banquet, as though she were already his wife.

“A beautiful day,” she said out loud, but the words did not relieve her strange agitation.

There was something portentous about the lucid skies, the birdsong, and the smell of flowers on the air, though spring was but a half-forgotten memory in these depths of winter.

Guma had always said decisions came with responsibility. Every choice, no matter how small, had a consequence. The air held a certain resonance, such as she had felt when she had heard Lihua tell the story of the thousand lanterns for the first time. It was a feeling that something bigger than herself had taken hold. It felt like she had pushed a bale of hay down a hill, and no matter how she chased after it now, there would be no stopping it. She had made her choices and the consequences had begun, though she knew not what they might be.

Kang appeared in a robe of somber brown, befitting the monk-creature she knew him to be. “The envoy has been sighted at the gates of the Imperial City. Shall I accompany you?”

“Of course,” she said lightly. She had grown used to the idea of his clever, unassuming disguise. Didn’t she have one herself, in a way? She summoned two other eunuchs to trail after her as she strode across the Empress’s walkway to the main palace.

“Are you all right?” Kang asked.

The unease she felt throbbed like an old injury, and she wondered if it had anything to do with her still-healing shoulder. “I’m perfectly well,” she said, but by the time they reached the palace balcony and saw men and horses streaming through the gates, Xifeng could no longer deny that part of her anxiety had to do with the envoy.

Until this moment, she had not known she still harbored hope thatWei would return. Perhaps it was fear, too, and an understanding that they could never go back to the way they were, now that he had taken her mother from her.

She watched soldiers dismount and talk and laugh, glad to be home after a long month away. She saw Hideki on his black Dagovadian horse, with Shiro behind him. She returned their greeting, but kept her eyes on the gate, scanning each face that entered. She waited, holding her breath, but there was no Wei. A chill entered her bones that had nothing to do with the winter air, and she thought she knew, at last, what true love felt like. Like the snapping jaws of an alligator trap, like a knife biting into the center of her heart. Like losing all of her lifeblood at once.

He had made real his threat. He had left her forever.

Shiro and Hideki approached and bowed to her, and she struggled to bestow a gracious smile upon them. “I’m delighted to see you both back safely,” she said.

“I enjoyed the journey,” Hideki said heartily. “But Shiro was impatient to get back.”

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